Carousel's in the Sky
by zunaira ghazal
Summary: Because sometimes, falling in love is the easiest thing in the world. AU. SasuSaku.
1. Redefining typical

Title: Carousals in the Sky  
Status: Chapter 1  
Summary: _Sometimes, falling in love is the easiest thing in the world. SasuSaku. AU._  
Notes: Based on the beautiful real life love story of my friend, Menahil.

 **xxx**

Uchiha Sasuke met Haruno Sakura for the first time when she came to live at his house for a summer. Apparently, his mother had been pen palling anonymously in Kumo— "Yes, Sasuke, even your mother wants to vent sometimes," she'd said in an uncanny juxtaposition of endearing snarkiness—and, over the course of time, identities had been revealed, friendships had been strengthened*, and as mothers often tend to do, children had been discussed, tried to be matched up and embarrassing stories had been exchanged.

The Uchiha's were a proud, old and prestigious clan. They came from old money, lived in a more than humble abode and owned a sizeable company of notorious repute. They were a tight knit clan; and Uchiha Mikoto kept her sons close to her heart—"On a leash," Uchiha Fugaku would mutter darkly.

Haruno Mebuki had become an unidentifiable force in Uchiha Mikoto's life—for over the course of years, talking intimately about every aspect of your life tends to bring people closer. So when asked to tend to Sakura-chan—who she'd seen growing up through words and digital pictures—for a summer, Mikoto was not only delighted, but unexonerably excited. Husbands were saucily bribed, announcements were made to children and the guest room was thoroughly redressed in pink.

All the while, Uchiha Fugaku looked on in stern disapproval—was flippantly ignored—while Uchiha Itachi would look on with datached amusement. Sasuke, on the other hand would scowl his disapproval and sulk under the shining, shimmering, bright disposition of his mother.

On the day, Haruno Sakura arrived, the Uchiha household was frozen in the state of hawkish judgment—all except Mikoto, who cheerfully introduced the uncomfortable looking girl.

"This is Sakura-chan, boys." Fugaku growled his dissent, Itachi subtly beamed and Sasuke looked on sulkily. "She's here to start her internship at Senju Memmorial but that zealot landlord has conned her out of that horrible apartment building—" the last of this statement was delivered with furious righteousness—" and so, she will be staying with us in the meantime," Mikoto, completely ignoring her family's less than welcome disposition, beamed radiantly and Sakura fidgeted under the watchful, speculative gaze of the Uchiha men.

"Um, thank you for having me," she muttered uncomfortably. And everyone was ushered in.

 **xxx**

Sasuke treated Sakura like he would treat any other stranger who'd have the misfortune of bumping in him on the street—with frigid politeness.

The first few days consisted of awkward hallway run in's and silent, difficult breakfast's, where the only person contributing conversation was Mikoto.

And on the day that Mikoto fell sick, the Uchiha men clambered in silent chaos, for the Uchiha matriarch had rarely ever fallen ill, and so they knew little to nothing about taking care of a sick person. Uchiha men were tragically awkward, and so was their way of expressing concern—Fugaku sat in silent vigilance at his wife's side, Itachi loitered in the kitchen and Sasuke insisted upon going to the doctor to no avail—"It's just a little cold, Sasuke-kun," she would croak after a hacking cough. All three of them would frown in worry.

It was when Sakura arrived at night, critically analyzed the situation and took things into her own hands that the entire household was able to breathe a sigh of relief. Truth be told, none of them had quite remembered their house guest until the moment the door had squeaked shut at 9 o'clock at night and tired footsteps had intruded on the silent convening the three of them had held in the kitchen. She'd taken one look at their stricken faces, dropped her bag and turned wide, inquiring eyes at them. It was Itachi who had answered in a deadpan voice, "Its mother. She has a cold."

There had been a moment of silence, where she'd looked at each man in turn, and then raised her eye brows so high that Sasuke had had the urge to snap at her waspishly. Then she'd let out an amused sigh and without further ado tromped towards the main bedroom.

The three men in the kitchen shared a look and took off after her. As they crammed themselves in the doorway, they found her gently taking Mikoto's pulse, putting a hand of her forehead and lean her head to listen to her stuffy nose. Then she looked at them and gently told them, "It's a cold. From change in weather. No need to worry."

Until that moment, none of them had the foresight to remember that she was actually training to be a doctor. They shuffled in the room and looked at her awkwardly. She smiled, "I could prescribe basic cold medicine. It should help, but the virus would run its course. I would prescribe antibiotics but I don't think she needs them yet. Let's just keep her hydrated and feed her chicken soup, ok?"

That was the most she'd spoken to any of them since her arrival and it took Sasuke and Fugaku a moment to dip their feet in the situation. Itachi, as always, was on top of it. "Would Tylnol help?"

She gave him half a smile, took out a notepad from her pocket and wrote something on it. "This one should do it."

 **xxx**

Over the course of next few days while Mikoto got better, it was Sakura who took care of the rest of them. She got up early in the morning and prepared breakfast—for Mikoto was adamant at always being the one to send off her family with full stomachs in the mornings herself—so by the time Fuagaku rolled in the kitchen, the table was set with eggs, toast and juice and Fugaku was stunned speechless. Itachi followed and after a moment of sudden shock, smiled his gratefulness, and took his seat. "Thank you, Sakura-san."

"It's the least I could do," she smiled, picked up her bag. Sasuke entered the kitchen and like the rest of his family, stared the scene in momentary disbelief.

"I've got to run. There's soup for Mikoto-san on the stove. I'll be late so you'd probably have to reheat the left over from last night. I'll try to buy something frozen on the way back, ok?" she rattled, distracted and checking her bag while the rest of them listened on in astounded silence.

Satisfied with the contents of her bag, she hefted it over her shoulder, beamed out her smile and made to go out. Fugaku's hand stopped her in the doorway. He cleared his throat, averted his eyes and said, "You didn't—"

"Of course I did," she cut him off gently. "You've given me a place to live. I'm grateful." She patted his hand gently and swiftly took off.

"She's something, isn't she?" a soft voice croaked from behind the jamb where Mikoto stood in a fluffy bath robe with tangled hair and a stuffy, red nose. She hacked out a cough.

 **xxx**

After that, the rest of the Uchiha warmed up to Haruno Sakura. It was in the smallest of things; how Itachi would offer her an extra glass of juice before she left for the hospital, how Fugaku started asking about her day—"Bloody and gruesome," she would grin—and how Sasuke would wake up early to silently help her out with breakfast. As Mikoto got better, she insisted upon taking her breakfast duties back and unbidden, Sasuke felt a twinge in his chest.

His mother must have seen something on his face, for she smiled at him in affectionate amusement and said, "Sakura-chan must be special. You never helped your mother, Sasuke-kun."

Sakura looked at him with a laugh. "Really?"

"Mmhm," Mikoto affirmed, delighted.

Sasuke's cheeks warmed. "As if," he snapped, embarrassed.

He was surprised when it was Sakura who tutted at him. "Don't be an ungrateful cretin, Sasuke-kun," she laughed at him.

Itachi entered the kitchen and heard the tail end of the conversation. He chuckled and patted Sasuke's head affectionately.

None of them missed the brand new suffix at the end of his name.

 **xxx**

Sakura's hours at the hospital were uncanny; sometimes she would arrive early in the evening, sometimes, late at night, and one time even in the wee hours of the morning.

Sasuke had a habit of drinking warm milk before he went to bed. Some nights, she came home when he was upholding his traditional nightcap. That was how their friendship started. She would heave her bag down and he would sit on the kitchen stool and sip his milk slowly. They would talk. Mostly, she would, since he was, by nature a silent person. But he would contribute to the conversation and she would appreciate his effort.

"You're such an awkward turtle, Sasuke-kun," she said one day.

He gave her a bland look.

"Don't worry. I like you despite your cringe worthy disposition," she smiled cheekily.

He nearly huffed. "No one is flawless, and my disposition is perfectly acceptable. I just don't find talking to be very productive."

"Liar," she smiled. "You just don't know what to say, most of the time."

"I know perfectly well what to say most of the time," he said, a tad haughtily.

She laughed again, and got up, "Nah. You just suck at conversation. Good Night, Sasuke-kun." She waved and went to her room.

Sasuke let his lips lift up in half a smile.

 **xxx**

Her hair was pink and her eyes ever changing; green like apples when she was excited, celadone when she was tired, emerald when she was angry and a soft sea foam when she was content. Sasuke was baffled that he'd noticed. He chalked it up to their budding friendship.

"So," she started.

"What?" he asked and scowled when she slid his glass towards herself and took a sip.

"I'll be moving out in a few days," she said casually, not looking him in the eye.

He was silent for a moment, then, "I see."

She looked at him then, "That's it? You 'see'?"

"What else am I supposed to say?" he asked.

"You're supposed to ask where am I moving, how am I moving, do I need help or are we still going to be friends?!" she snapped at him. He could see the hurt in her eyes. They shone a bright leaf green. He added it to his mental collection and took back his glass of milk.

"I thought you knew that I suck at conversation," he said, as if stating a fact, and took a sip of milk.

She stared at him for a few seconds, then laughed and wound an arm around his neck, rested her head on his shoulder. He let her. "I'm moving into this tiny apartment in this building near the hospital—"

"How very descriptive," he interrupted snarkily.

"Shut up," she squeezed his neck threateningly and continued, "Anyway, it'll be a few months till I start my residency, so I need to be nearer. A friend of mine is helping me move but I'll appreciate your help," she squeezed his neck again and he hummed his assent.

"Did you tell Mother?" he asked.

"No. I'll tell them tomorrow." She didn't sound enthusiastic.

"Mother will be devastated," he said.

"I know, Sasuke-kun," she said wearily and moved away to put her head down on the table. He immediately missed the warm weight and the smell of apple and candies. "It's going to be craptastic," she intoned into the table.

"Aa," he agreed. But he'd also come to know that she was fiercely independent, and nothing he would say would make her stay, so he didn't say anything. He understood, in the three months he'd known her that she had things do, had people to save, things to prove. He put a supporting hand on her back.

"We'll meet two times a week, whenever we're free," he said. "Maybe mother will guilt you into a dinner every week. Be prepared."

She lifted her head, smiled, and some of the weight on his heart lightened. "Thank you, Sasuke-kun."

 **xxx**

Her departure had been miserable. Mikoto had been downcast, Fugaku silent and Itachi, surprisingly passive—"I know she'll come back, one day, if not in the way you expect, Sasuke," he'd said cryptically.

And as Sasuke and a very bright, blue-eyed and bushy tailed Yamanaka Ino helped Sakura move; he knew in his heart that his brother was right. He just didn't know how.

 **xxx**

They met regularly. Sometimes, they met for drinks and sometimes, when both of them didn't have an early morning, they'd hit various drive through joints and Sakura would eat her heart out while Sasuke would watch on with a smile. Sometimes, they'd go to respectable establishments and she would make Sasuke treat her to expensive meals.

"You're rich, and I'm a struggling Intern. Feed me," she would say.

"I'm not rich," he'd reply.

"Yet."

They would talk—about nothing, about everything.

"We had an accident patient in the ER today. His wife was with him. She was pregnant. They lost the baby."

He looked at her; at her wilted shoulders, *dark eyes and put his hand on hers. She held on gratefully.

"Shikamaru fell asleep in the meeting today," he said, trying too sooth her in his own emotionally stunted way. "Father was pissed."

She laughed, and held on to his hand tightly.

"One day, I'll buy you a tomato farm for being so sweet," she said.

"I'd like that," he replied.

 **xxx**

Around the second year of her residency, Sakura started losing herself; she lost a lot of weight, worked overtime, slept less and consistently stood him up. Sasuke was worried, but more than that, he was angry. She had wormed her way into his heart, made herself a comfortable little nook, and was now trying to thrash her way out. It made his chest twinge.

Uchiha Sasuke was the kind of person who, when loved something, he gave his entire heart to, poured his entire soul in it. But at the same time, his heart was three sizes too small; and when that something hurt his him, his ego took over—and his ego refused to make amends. As Sakura's presence in his life became less frequent, he learned to live with that constant hollow in his heart, started shaping his life around that tiny hole.

It was after two months of this that Yamanaka Ino found him. He was reading through the legal contracts of the latest deal their company had closed that his assistant Suigetsu nervously knocked on his office door. Ino stood behind him, prideful and stunning, her blue eyes looking at him resentfully.

She stormed in, sat across him, glared and he noticed that her eyes were a little rheumy. He was instantly alarmed. "Sakura?" he asked.

"Oh, so now you care?" she snapped.

He looked at her steadily. "What's wrong with Sakura?"

"Shouldn't you know already?!" she raged. "Listen to me Uchiha! You don't just start a thing with someone and leave them when they need you the most!"

He took a deep calming breath. "I never left her. She was the one who distanced herself."

"And you LET her!? What the fuck is wrong with you!?"

He gave her an irritated look.

She inhaled deeply, glared her him once more, and spat, "Did you even, for a moment consider that something happened with her? Or did you automatically jump to stupid conclusions?"

"I—"

"No!" she snapped. "Don't give me lame excuses."

He opened his mouth again, closed it.

"Just," she rubbed her eyes tiredly. "Just fix her. Please."

 **x**

 _tbc_


	2. Magic in the making

Title: Carousals in the Sky  
Status: Part 2  
Summary: _Sometimes, falling in love is the easiest thing in the world. SasuSaku. AU._  
Notes: Based on the beautiful real life love story of my friend, Menahil.

 **x**

He found himself standing outside the door to her apartment. His jaw hurt from clenching his teeth and his pride stung from Yamanaka's words. He lamented his crappy habit of giving up on people too easily. It still wasn't enough to give him the courage to raise his hand and push the bell.

So he squeezed his eyes shut and made his hand move; the bell rang. No one answered. He rang again; still nothing. He exhaled, thinking no one was home, and was about to turn around to go when he heard shuffling. A moment later, the door opened.

His breath caught. She stood behind the door; tiny body dwarfed in an oversized shirt, hair in a battleground of disarray and deep, dark circles under her eyes. "Oh," she said without an expression, "It's you."

He bristled. "Yes, it's me. Is that all you have to say?"

She let out a tired sigh, and went inside. The door was left open for him. He followed.

"Make it snappy, Sasuke-kun. My shift starts in two hours," she said, and sprawled out on the couch.

He took in the rest of the apartment; it was in an unseemly state of entropy—there were dirty clothes spread all around, the kitchen sink was full of dirty dishes and the once immaculate breakfast bar was brimming with unfinished take out.

He wondered why he hadn't noticed. He wondered why he'd given up. He wondered what would've happened if Ino hadn't intervened.

Swallowing, he sat on the ground, where her head was positioned on the arm of the couch. "What happened?" he asked.

"Nothing," she answered, didn't look at him.

He sat silently for a while, looked around the apartment once again; tried to gauge the situation. He noticed the tiny bottle of pills on the coffee table. He picked it up, read the label and his heart caught a little in his chest—anti-depressants. He blinked when the bottle was suddenly ripped from his hand. He slowly turned around, afraid to face her once again. She was looking the other way. Her hands shook. "Happy to see me again, Sasuke-kun?" she asked in a deliberately chipper voice.

He felt anger bubbling in his chest. "What the hell happened, Sakura?"

"Nothing!" she snapped, the bottle tightly held in her fist.

She was angry at him, he could tell. And she had every right to be. But he wasn't giving up, not again.

"Sakura," he said gently, cautiously, and found his hand holding hers. Her gaze finally snapped to his, and suddenly her eyes were glistening with tears and he found his arms full of a warm, heavy weight. He held on tightly.

"Why are you here now, Sasuke-kun," she sobbed, "Just go back and leave me alone." Her arms held on tighter. He rubbed soothing circles on her back, and after a while, when the worst was over, he asked again, "What happened?"

She was silent for a while, now cramped on his lap, both of them on the floor. Then she let out a tired breath and squeezed her eyes shut. "It was…I lost some patients," she whispered. "A whole slew of them actually. One after the other," her lip wobbled. "There was an accident, and it was a family," she choked out. "Three of them died in the ER. One on the table," she whispered.

He sighed and held her tighter. "You'll get through this," he said. "We'll get through this."

 **x**

He started visiting her at odd hours. Sometimes in the evening, sometimes in the early hours of the morning—whenever they could make time for each other. Sometimes they'd talk, most of the time they'd be silent. A silent Sakura unnerved Sasuke. Once a month, he bought her home for dinner. Mikoto worried and Itachi silently frowned. Fukagu expressed his concern the only way he knew how—by making disgruntled noises at inappropriate moments.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm dying," she said one day, so casually that it took him a moment to actually absorb the words.

They were sitting on a park bench near Senju Memorial, and Sasuke felt like his heart would stop beating. "Why?" he asked around the lump in his chest.

"I don't know. I feel like I don't deserve to live," she said, looking at a far away spot.

Sasuke took her hand, squeezed it gently, and said, "I'm sorry you feel that way."

She looked at him then, and her eyes begged him to save her.

"Why did you decide to become a doctor?" he asked.

She looked surprised, then smiled a little, amused. "This is so cliché, but I guess I wanted to help people?"

"Really?" he asked, voice dry.

"Yeah," she answered, then continued, "Once, when I was in high school, I was at this Takoyaki cart with some friends. We were waiting for our turn and this guy on a bicycle swerves our way, and falls," she explained. "He just falls off and a lot of people gather around and we find out that he's unconscious." She sighed. "I felt so helpless. I wanted to go to him and fix whatever had caused him fall like that, but I didn't know how. I hated feeling that way."

He listened, smiled a little. "That was the day?"

She smiled at him then, like she used to, full of happiness. "Yes. That was the day. It wasn't exactly like I decided in that moment that I wanted to save lives or anything. Just that I never wanted to feel so helpless again."

He savored her smile, then said, "But you do feel helpless."

Her smile dimmed, then disappeared. "I…guess I do."

"How many did you save?" he asked.

"I..don't know?" she replied, baffled. "Where exactly are you going with this?"

"Compared to the ones you've lost, how many have you saved, Sakura?" he asked.

Her cheeks started to warm up, and a frown appeared on her brow, "I don't know, ok?"

He snapped his gaze from hers and looked ahead, "I think it's not fair, that you compare your losses to your wins."

"I think that it's very immature of you to think of them as losses and wins. They were people, Sasuke-kun," she snapped, angry now.

"Death," he said, "seldom show's mercy to anyone. It is not your place to lament their loss. It was their time to die and so they did."

She looked at him quietly for a while, then said, "Maybe I didn't try hard enough."

"Do you believe that?" he asked.

She looked at her lap, "A part of me does…"

"But you save countless people every day. What does that amount to?" he asked.

She smiled at him, "I don't SAVE countless people, Sasuke-kun. I HELP them. I'm not God."

He gaze bored into her eyes, willed her to understand her own words. "Exactly. You're not God, Sakura. You're only human. Give yourself a break."

 **x**

After that, her depression became a fleeting thing. She laughed more freely, the circles started disappearing from beneath her eyes, she started to talk his ear off again and Sasuke—he felt like he could breathe again. That didn't mean that she'd completely beaten it; once in a while, she would lose her temper, refuse to talk to people for days, lose herself in her work—and Sasuke would know that it was time to get her out of that hole again.

Haruno Mebuki had known the Uchiha's for quite a while now. She was a stern looking woman, well in her fifties, and liked to look at the brighter side of life. Haruno Kizashi, on the other hand was the complete opposite of his wife; he was a big, stocky man of tall build and supported crows feet around his eyes from the perpetual smile on his face. The Haruno's were a middle class household. They were proud, none the less. And they cherished their daughter more than anything else in the world. So when Uchiha Mikoto asked for the hand of her daughter in marriage, she was more than a little leery—for the Uchiha's were a prestigious clan; they had traditions, they had pedigree, and she, well she didn't.

"I want her, Mebuki. She's perfect for my Sasuke," Mikoto stated one day.

Mebuki sighed. "I don't know. Do you think she'll be happy? I know she considers Sasuke-kun a friend but, more than that…?"

Mikoto looked insulted. "I assure you, Mebuki. There is more going on there. I know it."

And so, on a bitterly cold, night, the Haruno's found themselves invited to the Uchiha's for dinner, where Sakura was in a funk, and Sasuke was worried.

"So, Sakura-chan," Mebuki asked, "How's everything at the hospital?"

"Fine," was the automatic response.

"How's everything at the company, Sasuke-kun?" Mikoto asked.

"Good," he answered, his eyes trying to meet Sakura's. Everyone at the table observed in silence.

Itachi cleared his throat. "I heard there was a bus accident today. It must have been busy at the hospital, Sakura-san."

Sakura's head snapped to Itachi. Then she suddenly got up and left. Everyone at the table sat in silence.

"Itachi, you idiot," sighed Sasuke, and continued on with his meal. Mebuki, looked on curiously, then excused herself politely and found her daughter sitting on the porch.

"That was rude, Sakura-chan," she admonished, albeit gently.

"Go away, mother. I need to stew for a while," she rebuked.

Mebuki, taken aback, by her daughter's authoritative tone, went back inside, more than a little stunned. After that, Itachi and even Mikoto experienced the same cold shoulder in succession. Sasuke sighed, as the table was being cleared up. Then he got up, "I guess its my turn now. I don't know how long it might take, but I'll return with her."

Mebuki and Kizashi looked at each other curiously. Mikoto smiled knowingly. "Lets move to the other room, shall we," she clapped her hands brightly.

Sasuke stood over the hunched form on the porch. He let out an exasperated breath when he saw she was wearing nothing but a thin button down and jeans, took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. Then he sat down beside her.

She looked at him sullenly and shrugged the jacket off. He put it on her shoulders again and she took it off once more.

He gave her an irritated look and took off his sweater, piled it on the jacket and looked off into the distance. He felt her eyes on him, and when she finally let out half an aggravated laugh that he finally looked at her.

"Will you stop being annoying and put on the jacket?" he asked.

"No," she replied.

"Fine," he said, and looked in the distance of the Uchiha residence driveway.

"Put on the sweater, Sasuke," she said, after a moment.

"After you put on the jacket," he replied.

"this is not a competition," she snapped.

He looked at her. "Then I'm making it one. Put on the jacket," he challenged.

"Sasuke-kun!" she slapped his arm in irritation, "Don't be an ass."

"Then put on the jacket. Its cold," he said, gently now.

They stared at each other for a few seconds. Then she let out an irritated breath and put on the jacket. Sasuke complied by putting on the sweater again.

"How long are we going to sit out here?" he asked.

"We?"

"Yes. I'm not going back inside without you."

"Don't be stupid, Sasuke-kun. They're going to assume we have a thing," she admonished.

"We do have a thing, Sakura. It's called friendship," he replied, calmly.

She gave him an irritated look. "That's not what they'll think and you know it, idiot."

"They can think whatever they want to. Its not going to make me go without you," he said.

Her eyes gentled. "Sasuke-kun, I need to be alone for a while."

"No, you need your friends and family. What are you getting out of this? Sitting here, in the cold?" he snapped at her. "When are you going to stop trying to save the world?"

She looked hurt, then looked away. "As long as I need to," she said angrily.

"Then get used to me being by your side, you annoying woman," he said, and glared at the side of her face.

She was surprised; he could tell she was—the corner of her lip lifted up, then down, and she snapped her head in his direction. "You know what you just said, don't you?" she asked, finally.

He scoffed, annoying. "Aa."

Mebuki allowed herself half a smile when, Sasuke showed up inside an hour later, her daughter in tow.

 **x**

"Lets go on a vacation," she said one day. They were sitting on the couch of her apartment, and Sasuke had been close to dozing off. He'd had a long day of tedious meetings.

"What?" he asked, rubbing his bleary eyes.

"Vacation. Lets go somewhere," she said again. She was sitting on the other side, a humungous medical text on her bent knees. "You've been working a lot lately. Give that smarty pants brain a break."

His lips twitched in a smile.

She laughed. "See, I got a tiny smile!"

"Idiot," he looked away.

"Sasuke-kun, I think if you tried to move your mouth to express some sort of pleasantry further than that twitchy smile, your face wouldn't crack," she stated calmly, looking nowhere in particular. "You have a beautiful smile when you do actually use it."

A small red tint spread across his cheeks at her comment.

"…What does this have to do with anything, anyway?" he asked, trying to look anywhere but at her.

"Nothing much," she said flippantly, "Just commenting on your mouth's capabilities. You should put it to good use."

"What's your idea of a good use?" he asked, while peering at her with onyx eyes.

"…Well…er…I don't know…" she gave away her answer by looking at his lips, which held a smirk.

"Anyway!" she ripped her gaze away, "I was saying lets go on a vacation!"

"Huh," was all Sasuke said, and made himself more comfortable on the couch.

 **x**

On a chilly Friday afternoon, Sasuke found himself standing next to Sakura in a dingy zoo on top of a shabby mountain resort in Waterfall. They were looking at a cheetah—the most droll, laziest cheetah Sasuke had ever seen. Somehow, Sakura had coordinated with Itachi to let him off, for the weekend. Before he'd even drawn a breath to say no, he'd found himself packed up and dropped off at the nearest bus station, Sakura and two suitcases in tow. He marveled at how she'd figured out he'd been struggling at work. The Uchiha was a reputable name—being one came with responsibilities. It came with expectations and Sasuke struggled to own up to it. For just a little while, he wanted to be Sasuke, not an Uchiha. Just Sasuke.

"Lets jump the fence," she trilled.

He gave her an incredulous look. "Are you mad?"

"No," she said, "Just fucking insane!" She jumped inside the tiny five-foot alley that separated the onlookers from the cage.

What she hadn't counted on was that the bright orange sweat shirt she wore, would pique the cheetah's interest, almost to the level that it would jump to the edge of his cage and try to pounce on her.

She screamed. "OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, OHMYFUCKINGGOD!" She ran around the narrow alley, jumping from one corner to the next, screaming her lungs out. The cheetah followed her. On the other side of the fence, Sasuke found himself laughing—honest to god, rumbling from the chest laughter. He clutched his chest and bent forward, while Sakura ran from one end of the alley to the other, cheetah in tow.

"HELP ME OUT YOU LITTLE SHIT!" she screamed.

He took deep, calming breaths to make his laughter stop, then walked to the end of the fence Sakura had situated herself against. The cheetah leered at her, while Sasuke helped her over the fence. She clutched his arms for support and buried herself in his chest. "I thought it was going to _eat_ me," she mumbled.

Sasuke couldn't help but laugh. "If that thing was actually out, you and I both, would be dead, idiot."

She extricated herself from his arms and started at him, red faced and embarrassed, then stuck her tongue out at him.

He knocked her on the forehead, teasingly. "That's what you get for being reckless."

She huffed. "You took your sweet time helping me out. If it comes out," she gestured towards the cage, "I'll put you in front so it eats you first!"

He shook his head at her. "You care too much about me to do that."

"No, I don't," was the automatic response.

"Yes, you do," he countered.

"Psh, as if," she looked away from him.

He looked at her silently for one, two, three seconds, then walked to the fence and jumped inside. The Cheetah came pouncing back and behind him, Sakura screamed.

"UCHIHA SASUKE, YOU GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE!" she waved her fist at him from above. He looked at her, gave her an infuriating smirk and ran to the other end of the alley, making the Cheetah ponce after him.

"SASUKE, PLEASE!" she screamed.

He ignored her protests and ran a few more laps, all the while relishing in her worry.

"OK, I GET IT, JUST PLEASE! GET OUT OF THERE!"

By now, the Cheetah had tired itself out, and sat at the edge of the cage, licking it paw indolently, and Sasuke leaned against the fence, slightly out of breath. He wasn't quite surprised at the slight smack on the back of his head.

"Stupid!" she snapped, then pulled at his hair, "Idiot! I thought my heart would _stop_!"

He looked back at her worried face and smirked smugly, "Thought you didn't care."

For a few seconds, she just looked at him, speechless and sputtering. Then she frowned and smacked him upside the head again. "Idiot."

They fed the Cheetah chocolate—"Don't feed it the wrapper," she scolded, "That's how our giraffe died!"—and looked at the mountain bears. She bought him coffee and made him buy her ice-cream. They spent the rest of the day hiking. At the top of the trail she sat him down. "Get over it, Sasuke-kun," she said.

He leaned back on his hands and gave her a curious look.

She gave him a disapproving frown. "As long as you're not living the high life on the fast lane, flaunting it with flashy cars and disposable girlfriends, you're all set, Sasuke. Just be goddamn thankful for who you are and where you are now. If you can't treasure what you have now, then you will always use this as an excuse as to why you can't evolve and make your own 'thing'."

She took his hand, held it tighter in her own. Her eyes glowed a fierce emerald as she spoke to him. "You'll say you can't get out of the family business, think that you were born this way, and I want you to know that all of it is bullshit."

He swallowed and looked at their twined hands.

"Sasuke-kun," she said, gently now, "These bonds you have with your family are supposed to make you stronger and better. Show everyone what you have and people will finally see the real you, past your family name. Just like how I see you," she said, smiled, and Sasuke felt an unfamiliar warm feeling inside, tugging at his chest achingly.

He inhaled deeply, clasped her hand tighter, and felt the tension in his chest release.

 **x**

Uchiha Mikoto compressed her home-made Onigiri into perfect balls and enjoyed that her youngest son was sitting at her kitchen table, drinking her coffee. More often than not, he brewed his own, now.

She missed him.

Fact was, she missed having both her boys underfoot, squabbling and picking on each other. God knew there'd been times she'd thought they would set her crazy, that she would never have a moment's peace again. Now they were all grown up and she had that peace, she found herself yearning for the noise, the work, the tempers.

She wanted more children. With all her heart she'd wanted a little girl to fuss over in a house full of men. But she and Fugaku never had any luck making a third baby. She comforted herself that they'd made two healthy, beautiful boys and that was that. Now she wanted them to get married and give her a bunch load of grand babies to dote on.

But her boys were very particular, she mused, slanting a look towards Sasuke as he frowned over the paper. He wasn't still single for lack of an opportunity, that Mikoto knew of. She knew there's been women in and out of his life, but she didn't care to dwell on that. What made her chest bubble with glee was the fact that he had never stumbled over a woman before—not until now, and Mikoto supposed, it was just as well. You had to stumble before you had to fall, and falling in love was serious business. When a man chose carefully, he usually chose well. She'd always known they couldn't force him into a marriage—they'd had to wait for him to make his choice, to mesh his life intricately with hers, and realize that he was right where he was supposed to be.

With a plate heaped with Onigiri and sliced tomatoes she paused a moment by the breakfast island and looked at Sasuke. She loved her son, this beautiful boy that had somehow come from her.

As she set the plate on the table, she ran her hand over the thick mop of his raven head. Remembered with odd and sudden sense of clarity, the first time he'd took stumbling, toddling steps. How proud she'd been.

"Whats on your mind, Sasu-chan?"

He set the paper aside. Reading at the table was allowed but only until the food was served on it. "Nothing."

She sat, cradled her coffee cup. "I know you, Sasuke-kun. The gears are turning in there."

He shook his head and started on his breakfast. He said nothing for a while, enjoying the food, the smell, the light glowing through the window. Enjoying the company of his mother. She was as dependable as the sunrise, he thought; Uchiha Mikoto with her gorgeous black eyes and shiny raven hair. She had milky white complexion that defied the sun. There were lines on it now, he mused; but they were so soft, so natural, you didn't even see them. Instead you saw that smile, warm and confident. That smile of his mother's was reflected in Sakura, and when he thought about it, it hit him in the chest with the force of a speeding truck.

As he slowly ate, he thought about her—a slip of a girl, slim in her eccentric dressing. But he knew the strength in her. Not just the physical, but what was inside, where it counted most, was iron. She never faltered. In all the time he'd known her, he'd never seen her turn her back on a challenge—or a friend. She was strong and kind and generous—and, Sasuke realized with a jolt, he couldn't quite imagine his life without her anymore.

He swallowed thickly.

 **x**

 _tbc_


	3. Drop the love bomb, baby

Title: Carousals in the Sky  
Status: Part 3  
Summary: _Sometimes, falling in love is the easiest thing in the world. SasuSaku. AU._

x

"This," Sakura moaned, "is heaven."

Sasuke had to put an effort in prying his eyes away as she closed her eyes and scrunched her face in pleasure. His fingers twitched on the fork he was holding and he stared intently at the plate of pasta in front of him. He was startled when a fork full of roasted chicken dipped in piping, hot cheese was shoved in his face. He looked up to see Sakura holding it up to his lips. "C'mon. Open up."

He humored her, and wasn't surprised when his taste buds positively melted with pleasure.

Sakura watched him, delighted. "It _is_ heaven, right?"

"Right."

They both went back to eating and Sasuke summoned the courage to start a conversation that he knew had the potential to wreak havoc on his relationship with Sakura. He was also aware that they couldn't go on like this either; if somewhere down the road, Sakura decided she liked someone—his lips twisted involuntarily in a scowl as he remembered that whole debacle with Kiba—and started going out, it would hurt him. And he was honest enough with himself to admit that he, in turn, would hurt Sakura. So, he'd decided, if things were going to go awry or right, why not avoid as much drama as possible and do it as soon as he could?

"What's up, Sasuke-kun?" she asked, and he blinked out of his semi-trance. "You've been staring at the pasta for five minutes now."

"Don't be ridiculous," he mumbled, and avoided eye contact.

"Hey," she put her hand on his from across the table. "I know that look," she said cautiously, "that look where you look like you're going to invade a small country with nothing but your tortured soul," she added, in a manner that said _spill._

The corner of his mouth twitched up in a half smile as he took all that in, and his hand flipped around to hold her's in place. "Fine," he said. "I was thinking where we're going with this."

A moment of silence passed where her eyes widened and her hand twitched in his. Then her eyebrows shot up. "Uh…what exactly is _this_?" she averted her eyes.

"This," he said, squeezing her hand, "Us. Where are we going with _us_ , Sakura?" he asked again. He watched as she swallowed and tried to pry her hand away from his. He held on tighter.

"…I don't know, Sasuke," she said finally.

He waited for her to look at him, and when she did, he said, "I want to marry you."

The stunned silence that followed lasted a century. "Oh…" she finally said.

He took that as a cue to continue. "If it's not you, then there isn't anybody else for me."

She inhaled sharply at kept staring at him. Then she blinked, blushed and succeeded in getting her hand back. "Um," she said, "Let's go back. I'm kind of tired."

The silence on the drive back was the most uncomfortable one Sasuke had ever experienced.

x

Yamanaka Ino had known Haruno Sakura for four years, now. Their relationship had started with a bang—instant rivals; for surgeries, for ideal shifts, for the attention of their attendings, and somewhere along the way, a friendship had bloomed. They'd become confidents, they'd cried on each other, had a gazillion fights, made up a billion times in twenty thousand different ways. Ino liked to think that Sakura was her soul mate—the platonic half of her that had always been missing, the proverbial leaf on the stem of her perfect flower. Ergo, she was protective of her, almost like a mother hen.

So on the day Sakura asked, "What do you think of Sasuke-kun?" Ino felt like an age old father, giving his daughter away in marriage.

They were lying on the dingy bed in the on-call room. They'd both just scrubbed out of their respective surgeries and Ino felt bone weary and so, so tired that it took her a moment to comprehend the question. "What?" she asked, suddenly attentive and ten times more energetic.

Sakura, however, remained as passive as ever. "What do you think? Of Sasuke-kun?" she asked, then added a bit meekly, "And me."

Ino took a deep breath, then flopped down on the bed again. "Huh. I think you're…perfect."

Sakura snorted. "Why, Pig?"

"Why not?"

"I don't know!" she cried, "That's why I'm asking you!"

"Oh, my God, Forehead! Are you looking for actual reasons to destroy this?!" Ino asked, perhaps a little angrily.

Sakura turned to her, then, looked at her with wide, scared eyes. "I'm scared of ruining this, Ino-chan."

Ino narrowed her eyes and slapped her arm affectionately. "What exactly is _this_ , anyway?"

" _This_!" Sakura waved her hands around, "Us! Sasuke-kun and I! Our friendship! What if this isn't the right thing!? What if he isn't the right person?!"

"Have you ever thought," askedIno, "that maybe, you've always had the right person all along, but just weren't ready to fall in love with them?"

Ino watched, as Sakura pursed her lips, let out a tired sigh. "I've never wanted to dip my feet in the dating pool, Ino-pig. All that meeting new people and desperately trying to make things work and then that whole business with marriage—it just—it has always freaked me out!"

Ino laughed. "Yes! I remember that whole disaster with Kiba a while ago."

Sakura shuddered. "Yeah. But this way, I wouldn't have to do all that stuff—I mean, we already know each other so well and I know that he isn't the kind with trust issues and—and—he was there when I had that thing with the depression—and stuff. Point is, he's seen me at my worst and he's been there through it all. He was there when I looked like a deadly medical epidemic and he never once left my side. What do I _do_ Ino?"

Ino looked at the nervous anxiety on Sakura's face, and a wide smile broke out on her own, "What _can_ you do, Forehead?"

Sakura swallowed and said, "I grab him, right? And I never let him go."

Ino felt her own eyes light up with unholy glee. "Mhm."

"But," she said anxiously, "what if it blows up in my face?"

Ino rolled her eyes, "NOTHING, in this world is easy, Forehead. But sometimes, things work out for the best. So, please don't ruin this for yourself. Every time you walk by, he drops his tongue on his boots. I will cut off my left arm if it blows up in your face."

x

Sasuke was looking over the presentation for the next meeting when his phone rang. It was four in the afternoon and Sakura was supposed to be on her shift, so he was a little surprised to see her name on the caller id. It had been three days since his impromptu proposal and Sakura had been religiously avoiding him. A little alarmed, he picked up the call.

"Hey, Sasuke-kun," she said in a chipper voice, "what's up?"

He sighed; part in relief and part in aggravation. He'd felt like he'd ruined an important part of his life that day, so the tingling relief in his shoulders was a welcome feeling. "Hey," he answered back.

"Ahan," she said flippantly, mockingly, "so, uh, I was thinking about what you said that day…" she trailed off, and his heart skipped a beat, "…and, well, if we're going to get married, then I'm going to wear the pants in this relationship."

It took him a moment to comprehend what she was saying, and when it finally sank in, he said, "You're joking, right?"

"Of course, dummy," she replied instantly, "why would anyone marry you, sour puss." And then she was off the phone and he was surprised to find his lips quirked in half a smile.

x

That was the beginning, apparently. Of Sakura's infallible marriage jokes, in which Sasuke often found himself her compatriot.

"I'm a challenge to you, right?" she joked, one day as they lay side by side in the grass. "That's why you want to marry me, yes?"

The word marriage had become a jest, a quip— _and_ , Sasuke thought, a way for Sakura to ease herself in this facet of their relationship.

"You aren't a challenge," he scoffed. "You're a pain in the ass."

She gave him a wounded look that he knew was fake, and said, "If you were my husband, I'd poison your coffee."

"If you were my wife, I'd take it," he replied casually. She smiled, and scooted closer to him. "You're sick."

"Says the murderer," he took her hand and, in a testing moment, bought it to his lips. Her breath hitched and he closed his eyes in smug relief.

"Go drink nail polish, pretty boy," she said, as she blushed and held on to his hand.

But sometimes, Sakura would become quiet, thoughtful, and she would look at him somberly. "Sasuke," she asked one day. "What makes you think that I'm ready for marriage?"

He looked at her, and in an instant, he understood all her inhibitions, all her insecurities and issues. "What makes you think you aren't?"

She took a deep breath. "I don't know. There are _responsibilities_ , consequences, _expectations_ …Your mother would want babies and I—don't want any, right now. I have a long ways to go and your father _expects_ things from you. Will he even approve?"—this she delivered a tad hysterically—"I can't even imagine Fugaku-san giving us his blessing." By this time she was wringing her hands and Sasuke couldn't quite help the small smile that slipped on his lips.

"Sakura," he said, "do you honestly believe that I haven't thought about all that?"

When she said nothing, he sighed and continued. "I will never let you bear the burden of those responsibilities alone. We'll face all those expectations together, and we will have children when we're ready to have children—not a moment before that."

"Your Father—" she started, and he cut her off. "My Father has probably known for a long time that _you_ are going to be his daughter, someday."

She didn't say anything for the longest time and when she did, Sasuke had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing outright .

"My cooking is bland" she stated.

"I am well aware."

"I'm an independent person. I'll still need my freedom."

"Sakura, I want to be your partner, not your keeper."

She seemed to have run out of excuses, and as her eyes became steely with resolve, he leaned close to her.

With one hand, he cupped her neck so that his fingers tangled in her hair. The touch was quietly intimate—something that he'd never dared to do. There was a quick and sudden instinct to back away, but Sakura ignored it. She was used to approaching things head-on, so she leaned forward, tilting her head up. She expected something pleasant, warm, even ordinary. It wasn't the first time in her life she'd gotten more than she bargained for.

Rockets. That was her first thought as his lips closed over hers. Rockets with that flash of color and that fast deadly boom. It had always been the boom she liked the best. Her little murmur wasn't of protest, but of surprise and pleasure. Accepting the pleasure, she leaned into him and absorbed it.

He smelled of pine and cologne and her skin warmed as she moved against him, felt the soft brush of his hands. And she had been waiting. The knowledge quietly clicked into place. She had been waiting so long for this. For him.

Unlike Sakura, Sasuke has stopped thinking almost instantly—or thought he had. She tasted…exotic. There had been no warning of that in her pretty, piquant looks and wiry body, no indication of milk and honey heated with spice. She tasted of the desert, of something a dying man might drink greedily in the oasis of his mind.

He hadn't meant to let his hands roam over her, not freely—not now. Somehow, he'd lost control over them. With each touch and stroke over her skin, he lost a bit more of his control.

Her back was lean and long. He trailed his fingers over it and felt her tremble. The need jolted again and his mouth was hard on hers, more demanding then he'd ever intended. He pillaged. She accepted. When her sigh whispered against his tongue, his heartbeat doubled.

She pressed against him, her mouth open and willing, and her body soft and submissive, her generosity was all consuming. As was his temptation.

Her hands were in his hair, a smile just forming on her lips, as they drew apart. Unashamed of her reaction to him, she let out a long contended sigh. Slowly, Sasuke pulled back an inch.

"If you kiss me like that every day," she whispered, "I might just marry you right now."

Her smile warmed his heart and her touch heated his blood; she could amuse and infuriate him as no other woman had ever been able to do. He couldn't imagine a future without her at his side. He loved her. It was as simple as that.

x

They were sitting side by side on the couch, him; languidly sprawled and she; cuddling in the nook of his arm. "Please, change the channel," she drawled lazily.

He kept watching the news.

She burrowed deeper and using the palm of her hand on his chest as leverage, leaned up to kiss the underside of his chin. "Please, change the channel, Sasuke-kun," she asked again, sweetly.

"No," he replied casually.

"Who's going to marry you with an attitude like that?" she sighed in mock disappointment.

"Aa," he smirked.

"You're going to be the king of bittertown," she slipped her hand under his shirt and he finally looked at her, "ruler of aloneville," she leaned up and kissed the corner of his lip, "emperor of hermit-junction," she whispered against his lips, and just as he was about to pounce at her, she backed away, and he was surprised to find the remote in her hands.

She laughed at him and he gave her a surly, half-hearted glare. This new aspect of their relationship delighted him, and as she burrowed back under his arm, he kissed the top of her head.

x

His mother was the first person he broached the subject to—mostly because he knew she would side with him unconditionally.

"Mother," he ventured, almost hesitantly.

Mikoto looked up from the half-peeled apple in her hand. "Yes, Sasuke-kun?"

He swallowed and opened his mouth, closed it, huffed and with a steely resolve, said, "I am going to marry Sakura."

He waited for the explosion, the happy, aggressive tears, the exclamations of joy–the proverbial hands in the air. The announcement should've rocked Mikoto's heart. His mother surprised him by going back to peeling the apple and smiling almost gently. "It's about time, Sasuke-kun. Your Father and I have been waiting."

x

It was her monthly dinner night at the Uchiha household, and she was sitting on the porch with Sasuke. As usual, his hands were resting on his lap with an air of controlled power. He was wearing loose clothes in navy linen. His beautiful eyes stared at her beneath his finely arched brows.

She stopped rolling her head to loosen her shoulders. "You're awfully quiet."

At the amused quirk of his lips, she added, "Then usual, you know."

He reached out to toy with her hair and she leaned into his touch.

"Your mom showed me your pictures," she said, a smile dancing in her eyes, and settling on her lips.

His brow furrowed in a scowl. "What pictures?"

The smile turned into a mischievous grin. "The one in which you were a baby—you know, staring at the tomato patch with gooey eyes, all bundled up in a girly dress."

Annoyed, he turned away. But she laughed and he just had to turn back. "You were adorable! I think your mother was your very first fangirl."

He relaxed and leaned back, lips pressed in a taut line.

She smiled. "Tell me something, Sasuke?"

"Aa?"

"Why do women always fall at your feet?" she asked, curiously. He noticed there was no venom in her words.

He turned to her and on impulse, skimmed a fingertip down her cheek, watched her eyes narrow. "I do not know, nor do I care."

"Well I just mean," she said, "you don't exactly have a shining personality. You're broody and, uh…I just wonder."

"Aren't you exaggerating?" he asked.

"Ever heard of ten-foot poles?" she blurted.

His mouth quirked at the corners. He noticed she was wearing a braid. It gave him the urge to loosen it strand by strand. "That's downright unfriendly," he said, and leaned in to softly kiss the crook of her neck. His lips lingered and she let out a shaky breath.

He smirked slowly. "I'm making you hot."

"Your ego needs pruning again." But she started to rise and he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. He felt her vibrate . "Come here," he said.

She concentrated on evening her breathing, slowly changed her grip on the can of coke she was holding. It irked her when he looked so cocksure of himself. She wanted him to stumble; for his heart to hitch, just like hers did around him.

"You want me to come there," she purred, watching his eyes widen slightly in surprise at the warm tone. "And what'll happen if I do?"

He couldn't form a single thought. All he could feel was the gradual simmer of lust set off by that husky voice. He curled his fingers into her shirt, tightened his grip, and pulled her against him. If his gaze hadn't drifted from hers to lock on her mouth, he would've seen it coming. Instead he found himself an inch away from that mouth and soaked from the coke dumped over his head.

"You're such a jerk, Sasucakes." Pleased with herself, she leaned sideways to set the empty can on the side. "Bet you didn't see that coming," she smirked. "Not so hot anymore, Sasuke-kun."

Slowly, he dragged a hand through his wet hair. "Guess not." But that smirk of his made warning bells ring in her mind and before she knew it—

She found herself trapped under him. He'd moved fast, she thought. Even a snake rattled before it struck. Now her heart beat faster as she was pressed into the wood of the porch with him hovering above. He never backed away from a challenge.

"You didn't see that coming." He handcuffed her wrists, over her head. Her face was flushed, but he knew it wasn't temper. Temper didn't make her tremble, didn't put that sudden female awareness in her eyes. "I'm going to kiss you."

Her heart beat fast, felt as though it would shatter through her ribs. Her lips tingled, as if the nerves centered there were revving up for action. "When I want your lips on mine, I'll tell you," she gasped out.

He smirked and leaned down closer to her face. "You weren't complaining last night."

Her throat went dry and she couldn't get a word across. On the other hand, she refused to make out on the front porch, so she bought a knee up, fast and hard.

She had the pleasure of seeing him go dead pale before he collapsed on her.

"Get off me you idiot! You're crushing my lungs!" Desperate for air, she arched, bucked, making him groan. She managed to gasp a breath before she grabbed a handful of hair and yanked. They rolled off the stairs and crashed into the driveway. She saw stars as her elbow hit the edge of a stair. It was pain and fury that had her tearing into him. Something clattered to the cobblestones as they wrestled, grunting and cursing.

He was trying to defend himself but she was obviously out for blood. And proved it by biting his arm, just under the shoulder. Grunting—and certain she was going to take a chunk out of him—he managed to grip her jaw and squeezed. Under the pressure the tear of her teeth loosened.

They rolled, feet thrashing and digging for purchase, elbows jabbing, hands grappling. Sakura didn't realize she was laughing until he had her pinned. She kept on laughing, helpless even to stop for breath as he stared down at her.

"It's not funny." He had to squint, then huff out a breath to get the hair out of his eyes. But all in all, he was grateful she hadn't managed to tear it out of his head by the handful. "You bit me."

"I know." her voice hitched as she ran her tongue over her teeth. "I think I've got some of your shirt in my mouth. Turn me loose, Sasuke-kun."

"So you can bite me again?" _Or try to kick my balls into my throat?_ He thought with a frown, since they were still aching—more than a little—he narrowed his eyes and turned his frown into a sneer. "You fight like a girl."

"I _am_ a girl. Besides, it works."

His mood was shifting again. He could feel that hot, slick transition from temper to lust, from insult to love. The way they'd ended up, her breasts were pressed nicely against his chest, and her legs were spread with his snugged between them.

"It does."

She saw the change in his eyes, longed to kiss him. "I—" His mouth was barely an inch from hers now, and her breath was gone again. "You're very pretty," she whispered.

He lifted a brow and his lips twitched. A shudder of pleasure ran down her spine. His mouth was only a whisper away from hers and then, it landed so softly, so gently, her mind went blank.

x

He proposed to her on the top of a trail at their vacation to Kumo. It was her hometown, where she'd grown up; she'd known these trails like the back of her hand, climbed them with her father, her friends, ever since she was a child—told him about them as they lay in bed after making love. He had a feeling she knew what he'd bought her here for.

They stood at the edge of the trail, taking in the sprawling mountains wrapped up in the shrouds of clouds, and Sasuke watched her from the corner of his eye.

To ward off the wind, she wrapped her scarf more securely around her neck. Yet she appreciated the winter—the majestic, powerful sweep of it, the way the snow seemed to freeze the peaks into sharp relief against the sheer wall of the sky. The dark belt of trees that clung to the rising foothills was so prettily draped with snow, and the silver ridge formed shadows and contrasts, like folds in a stunning blanket.

His hands were gentle as he turned her around, forced her head back until their eyes met. "Marry me," he said casually, like they were having an everyday, mundane conversation.

And, Sakura thought, he might as well be thinking they were. For he'd told her long ago that he intended to marry her; it was the beginning of their relationship. Her lips quirked in a smile as she said, "Sure."

He kissed her on the forehead, on the cheek, then lightly on the lips. Then he wrapped his arms around her and cradled her head to his chest.

* * *

Uchiha Sarada met Uzumaki Bolt for the first time at the tender age of eight, when his family came over to her not-so-humble abode for an official dinner. He was annoying, had a perpetual pout on his face and had all the trappings of Daddy Issues. Against her better judgment, she found herself enjoying his irritating company in a friendly game of go.

Far off on the porch Uchiha Sasuke scowled in displeasure. "Don't be an idiot Sasuke-kun," Sakura reprimanded as she leaned on the tips of her toes and kissed him on the cheek.

He scowled at her, but then his eyes softened when she gave him a brilliant smile. "He's a stupid kid," he said, looking in the distance at another bright, golden head, standing next to Itachi, "Just like his father."

"I bet he says the same about you," she scoffed.

Sasuke decided to be the bigger person in lieu of ignoring her offending remark. He smiled softly as he saw Sarada coming at him.

"Thank you, for my child Sakura," he said, pulling her closer.

She reached up and pinched his cheek with a toothy grin, at which he groaned. "Thank _you_ for being so hot. My kid is gorgeous."

"You just ruined our moment, there," he commented, with a little sigh. He rubbed his cheek, where a bright red spot was forming and crouched down, as Sarada ran into his arms.

 _fin_


End file.
